Canon Rock
by PingPong Girl
Summary: Led Zeppelin:Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra.Infected:Chopin Polonaise Op 53. Sreamo:Opera. Electric Guitar:Violin. A love that'll soothe and rock your world.
1. 1st Sonata

**Canon Rock**

_**By: BloodyRozze**_

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**-**

"_So a day when you've lost yourself completely_

_Could be a night when your life ends_

_Such a heart that will lead you to deceiving_

_All the pain held in your_

_Hands are shaking cold_

_Your hands are mine to hold…"_

_-__**All American Rejects-**_

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Her hands swayed gracefully in the air, as her delicate fingers manipulated the bow with so much passion. Her expression was though she was lost, no, drowned into oblivion. A sunken treasure than can never be discovered yet again.

The audience was in silence, stung by awe, their incredulous faces amusing to a stranger's eye. But to one little girl, oblivious to the wide stares she's been receiving since the start of her performance, everything was going smoothly. After this, she'll rise to the top. Outshine her seniors who in turn were either watching with utmost support, or glaring with unspeakable envy.

The fourteen year old, whose caramel hair was glowing bronze in the spotlight, with a well varnished violin nestled on her shoulder blade her fingers pinned on some strings, while her right hand descended and ascended like waves as wondrous notes engulfed the coliseum. Fantasy Impromptu Op. 66, Chopin, a difficult piece as commended by Bob Dickens, but flawlessly, measly done by a child prodigy.

Her silver tube dress was glittering, along with her, and her music. The people were closing their eyelids in an attempt to grasp the authentic, yet original melody more and choke it down to their memories. No other performance could possibly outdone what the master has, but this girl, had, and would've probably been at par with the previous greats themselves if she was born in a different time. Distinguished music critics refer to her as the modern day Mozart, a living relic, a true genius, an incomparable new figure for classical music.

But all that was about to change.

_Twang_.

A metal string snapped, went berserk and hit her ivory face. The audience had awoken from the lulling masterpiece and was gaping in disappointment at the young girl in front, with a messed up violin and a bleeding cheek. The theater erupted in murmurs and nods of disapproval.

No greater humiliation could ever befall to a musician than stopping midway in her solo performance in the Teatro Alla Scala, in front of five big time judges, two of them happens to be her parents, with a good for nothing trashed violin on her left hand, a bow on her right, and a swollen cheek.

Then and there she knew that her dreams had shattered.

"You are a disgrace." She heard Serio, _the _Serio, the best conductor and composer of the century, her idol, muttered.

As she froze in front of all the people who recently were admiring her musical prowess, but was now sighing and shaking their heads in regret, a girl simply watched her, her lips curled up in a satisfied grin.

-

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-

It has been two years since the incident that led the debut of her career down into the incinerator. The day she started, was the day it ended in a fatal blow.

She ruined everything, her name, her family's reputation, her parent's recognition, her pride, her future…she had lost all those. Because of one fucking string that just had to snap at the worst possible time, at the worst possible place in front of the worst possible people.

Mikan Sakura laid her body flat on her comfy bed as copies of complicated pieces torn and crumpled scattered about the room. Her violin, her once pride and glory, was hurled onto one wall, breaking it into fine shards of wood. While her bow remained untouched in her treasure box, otherwise known as her chest of junk.

Three knocks on the door made her grunt.

"Miss Mikan, your father summons you to the dining room." A woman in her mid thirties wearing a refined maid uniform entered and curtsied respectfully.

Mikan upon hearing her father's order curled herself into a ball. Having another one on one talk with her neurotic old man that lasts for an hour or so doesn't sound so good right now. Never has and never will.

"Do I have to?..." She groaned as she squeezed her face on the soft maroon pillow.

"Yes, or his Sir will be displeased." Angie, their loyal since birth head maid said while stroking Mikan's head. Apart from her biological mother, Mikan had only felt pure love from her. Since the day she was born, to the day she first stood, to the day she first walked five steps without falling down and crying, the day she first encountered the dusty old violin in the basement and began to play it professionally, Angie was there. And because of their long established friendship, they have a special relationship far stronger than with her other friends. Angie was like her second mother.

Mikan sat erect her eyes trailing from one crumpled paper ball to another. She had gone ballistic last night. Whatever the impact of her disgrace must've been equivalent to two metric tons of iron thrown at her, after two years her uneasiness and guilt continues to linger in her frail body.

"Oh come on dear, he must be worried about you. After you threw a crazy tantrum like that last night, I wouldn't be surprised if your father wanted to comfort you." Mikan chuckled. The word 'comfort' and 'your father' couldn't be any less than a conspiracy, or for her, an amusing joke. Yeah, right. Her father had been a crazed psychopath lecturer ever since her complete and utter bloke during the competition. He yaps about pointless things nonstop and forces her to practice at least five hours a day. If ever there was a poll about the World's Best Dads, her father would probably end up last place with donkey crap as a trophy.

Sighing, Mikan stood up and walked off with Angie trailing behind her with a considerable distance.

As soon as she entered the dining room, the room's atmosphere became awkward and gloomy, like it has always has been, her big time public 'accident' had nothing to do with it.

Her father, current owner of the Yukihara Corp, maker of fine and expensive professional instruments, had his elbows on the table with clear exasperated features while muttering incoherent words under his breath, her mother, principal of St. Cecilia's School of Music, was ignoring her very presence as she sliced her steak and fed small bites to her mouth. Her older brother was sneering at her, before he would walk out in shame for his younger sister was known to be a 'legend' far beyond his own skills, but now she became an object of his senseless ridicules and tyrannies.

"Sit." Her father ordered sternly. His hands clasped beneath his shaved chin.

Mikan did as she was told but in an uninterested manner.

"I don't want to beat behind the bushes Mikan, so I'll tell this to you straight. I'm sending you to your Aunt." He was staring at her with a fiery gaze, like this was meant to be some punishment. Unfortunately, heading to her Auntie Imai's was more of plain heaven than hell.

"You've been missing out on lessons. Your skills are worsening by the minute. And even if you are willing, the shame of your little stunt will forever be scarred in the Sakura family. This is not vacation, Mikan. I'm permanently relinquishing your kin with the family. You'll be part of the Imai's from now on."

Though she expected some tragedy to befall her, she didn't see this coming. She wasn't being sent to straighten her up, she was being…shipped. Disowned.

"So just because I made a mistake you're going to give me away to some folks?!" I banged my palms on the hard wooden table. Mother…well since she'll no longer be one, Yuka, lifted her cold gaze and glared at my misconduct.

"Don't you dare raise your voice on me Mikan. You reap what you sow. I've given you enough time to regain your condition, but instead, you reluctantly, half heartedly, improve your music just because you think you're the best. Sorry to bust your bubble child, but reality is, no music companies are willing to hire a girl who stumbled out on a performance in front of thousands of well known people, even Serio."

Mikan gritted her teeth while her brother snickered. The weight of her blow two years ago is falling down once again on her shoulders. She could feel it, the pain, the humiliation.

"Fine. Do what you want you scumbags." She didn't know how to address her ex-parents anymore. Might as well speak the truth.

In her room, she packed all her belongings which amounts to a mere stroller and a suitcase containing her favorite violin, her grandpa's.

Her father prepared for her to go next week, but she thought what was the use of waiting, no, enduring the days wherein her family name will soon be taken away from her, discarded by her own family like some biodegradable trash.

Her parents were currently in their room, and her brother was practicing his…adequate piano skills in the sound proof, thank God, music room.

"Mikan are you sure? Why so early?" Angie asked worriedly.

"I'd feel better this way. Oh and by the way, tell that bastard to shove a musical sheet up his ass. Tell the bitch to stop applying some damn cream unto her face she's uglier as it is. And don't forget to remind my brother that if he ever wants anyone to listen to his play, make sure it's someone deaf."

Angie smiled. "Good luck."

Mikan flung her bag coolly behind her as she tugged on her stroller. Since their driver only follows direct orders from her parents, the only way to leave this hell hole was to do it the ordinary way.

After half an hour, she managed to reach the gate of freedom and out of the devil's grasp. She hailed a cab that'll transport her to the airport. There, she paid thrice the average amount for a one way ticket to Japan, first class, of course.

She waited a good two hours before a flight attendant announced that the plane has arrived and made her way to the plane. Women in grand Dolce and Gabbana dresses, Ferragamo hand bags, Prada stilettos and the like accompanied by their Armani tux wearing boyfriends/bosses, lazily find a place to sit as they started discussing or making out on the white leather seats.

A stewardess pushing a cart of croquettes, pastries, a roasted chicken, and some white wine stopped by her area and glanced at her boringly. "What do you want?"

"White wine please." Mikan said with a fake smile.

The lady not caring whether she's a minor or not, handed her the whole bottle and made her way to another customer where she smiled flirtingly to the Calvin Klein model who in turn squeezed her ass. Yuck.

Using a pen, Mikan yanked the cork making it shoot directly towards the lady's ass and earned herself a glare but continued to flaunt with the sexy model who was now massaging her ever so revealing thighs.

Mikan turned her gaze to the window. No clouds could be seen, just the cerulean that seems to cover every bit of the sky.

Some moans could be heard at the seat behind her. Mikan, who could no longer tolerate the disturbing noise, got her precious white wine, raised it, and poured it at whomever unlucky victim there was at her back. She heard a few curses as she emptied the bottle.

The slutty stewardess approached her with a scowl plastered across her lipstick smeared face.

"Who the hell are you to do that to a customer?!" she snapped.

"Someone whom the likes of you will never find out." Mikan replied.

"Whatever you bitch! Just get out."

Mikan stood up dusting her jeans as she rummaged through her bag yanked out five thousand Euros and threw it at the girl.

"That should be enough for the damages," Mikan eyed the wet couple still making out behind her, they never learn do they? "And probably for some contraception." She spat out in disgust.

The guy, conscious enough to hear her, snapped out of their erotic trance and glared at her. His tangled raven hair damp and shimmering, his body hugging polo now a little transparent showing his perfectly built chest and a nice set of abs. The blonde haired girl in his arms simply squirmed in dire need for him to touch him.

They had a long glaring contest before the guy finally gave in to the girl's pleads and moans and smirked as he continued his postponed session with his little blonde whore.

But before Mikan could leave for the economy class, he never forgot to give her a flirtatious wink as she nibbled the girl's earlobe and trailed butterfly kisses on her neck as the woman in his arms moaned and pressed her body against his.

"Cocky bastard." Mikan said disgusted as she walked out.

-

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**YO pipz! Hah! This'll be my third fanfic yeah! This is sort of music related, n' of course there'll be lots of hot romantic scenes!!! I'll be updating My Wife Is a Gangster soon, as for Killing the Prince, I'm still waiting for the 70****th**** review!!! So please read n' review!!!**


	2. 2nd Verse

**Canon Rock**

_**By: BloodyRozze**_

**-**

**-**

**-**

"_She's cool and she's cruel,_

_But she knows what she's doing,_

_Knows just what to say so my whole day's ruined…"_

_-Click Five-_

_-_

_-_

"Shit." Mikan grunted as she massaged her aching butt.

For the first time in her life, she rode in the economy class. Where the seats were practically as hard as stone, and were so compressed she could smell the fat guy on her right's sweaty armpits. The stewardesses were either reading some Cosmopolitan mag, or flirting with some appealing guy rather than paying attention to people who truly need their help. And when she made a quick trip to the bathroom…uh….can't even talk about what it looked like.

"I'm gonna sue that airlines." She mumbled.

Mikan got her luggage and searched for her cousin, Hotaru Imai, or maybe since she'll be part of their family from now on, her sister, or anything close to that.

She waited and searched for her for around 45 minutes, and with an exasperated sigh, she saw her.

There across the vast marble floors was Hotaru Imai, calmly drinking her cappuccino in some café.

She marched towards her, annoyed.

"Hotaru, you could at least tell me where you were!" She said irritated and placed her heavy luggage down.

"I left my phone." She replied.

"Then why can't you stand right there like all those people while raising a paper with my name on it."

"I'll look stupid."

Mikan sighed. Hotaru will always be Hotaru.

A smile tugged to her lips. "Nice seeing ya couz'." She said and bought a drink of her own.

Mikan was kind of new to her new place.

Japan was crowded, with lots of cars beeping and people wearing business suits or short skirted uniforms and holding a cell phone on their right hand and clutching a suitcase on the other while loitering around.

She had to admit, she missed France. The fresh cool air that smelled of newly baked bread. The air of romance in Paris. The musicians playing in the streets. And her school…

She bit her tongue reminiscing her big bloke. She could've still won it. She knew she had the potential even if she committed a big mistake. She could've continued playing with a new violin, but she froze. She froze like an amateur. While parents looked at her with horrified faces and urged her to go on, she could no longer move he hands. They were trembling too much.

"Sorry about what happened in America." Hotaru said noticing her pained expression.

"It was…a long time ago." Mikan replied.

"We enrolled you to a music school here by the way," She announced "Though you won't admit it, I know you still want to play."

Mikan's lips curled up into a smirk. "Let's see how good they are."

"Overconfident are we? Well, sorry to bust your bubble, but, I signed you up for Gakuen Alice School of _Rock_."

Mikan's eye bulged out. "WHAT?!"

"Lower your voice you're bombarding my ears with unnecessary sound waves. There's no available ear drum transplant you know."

"But why the hell? A rock school?! Oh c'mon Hotaru, you know I'm into classic."

"Quit yapping. I have my reasons. First there's somebody I know there who would do you good. And second, and more importantly, it's nearer. The only music school here that deals with the classics is miles away. Gas prices are elevating these days. I couldn't afford to waste a yen. Third, it's tiring to drive." She said stoically.

"But father's paying you more than half a million yen a month. And you're not doing the driving." Mikan pointed at their chauffeur.

Hotaru shrugged. "It's exhausting to sit."

"You don't have to come."

"Mom will force me."

"I'll tell her I'll be fine."

"And if there will be an accident, I'll get blamed for it, and she'll deduct a portion of my allowance. Not going to happen."

"How do you know when there'll be an accident or not?!"

"That's the point, baka. It's called an accident because you can't predict when it'll happen."

Mikan grumbled. Debating with her cousin is like arguing with sheep and calling it a horse. She'll end up feeling stupid.

They reached her new home a few minutes later.

It was big. A two story mansion with a huge lot and an indoor pool.

"Nice." Mikan whistled.

"Like it's any near yours." Hotaru pointed out.

"Hey, I'm just being friendly. No need to act all bitchy about it."

Hotaru flashed her a glare and got out some sort of gun from the limousine's compartment.

Mikan's eyes widened. "After all these years, you still have that thing?" She said and took a few steps backward.

Hotaru smirked. "You've been in France for way too long. I'll make you remember my wrath." She aimed the Baka gun, what Hotaru likes to call it, and shot her continuously.

Mikan ran around in desperate hope of avoiding it as they chased after each other like lion (Hotaru) and mouse (Mikan) while the maids and butlers just watched them.

"Mikan…come out come out wherever you are." Hotaru spoke in a disgustingly sweet voice.

Mikan shivered as she tried to control herself from squirming. But of course since she made the wrong choice of hiding inside Hotaru's Closet Full of Treasures, or her collection for short, it was quite difficult to not scream when she's lying there facing a person's head, who knows whether it's real or fake, jars filled with formaldehyde and human brains, a skull, a human sized The Grudge limited edition mannequin (who looks just like the actual dead girl in the movie), and a spear that was poking her butt.

Mikan peeped through the small crack.

No sign of Hotaru.

Mikan sighed.

Suddenly, an eye appeared looking at her from the crack.

The closet doors burst open.

"Found you." She said in a wicked voice.

-

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Mikan forced her quivering body up the bed as she buried her head on a pillow. Hotaru was as merciless as ever.

"She'll be the death of me…" She murmured and rolled over.

"School of rock, huh?" Mikan imagined men with Mohawk styled colored hair, a bony body with nose piercings, earrings, chokers, wearing some black leather and skinny jeans with tattoos covering their body.

Then the face of the boy she met, more like glared at, at the airplane popped into her mind.

And though she hates to admit it, she hoped that the boys in that school would look like him and not some…weirdo looking piece of shit.

She recalled the way he made out with some blondie and wrinkled her forehead in disgust.

"I wish I'll never see that bastard again…"

And then, she drifted off to sleep.

Unfortunately for her, luck wasn't on her side.

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**Phew. Cool, I've updated most of my fanfics and made a new one. Hurray for me!!! Hoped you liked this chapter and please look forward to the next. It'll be a clash between two prodigies!!!**

**-hehe here ya go, hope you enjoyed it.**

**no0nespeciaL****-Yo back to you too…**

**-KateDominique-****-Haha, thanks very much.**

**mikanxnatsume1228****-As reward for the review, here ya go. **

**Claire Poncherrii****-Don't worry, what you said isn't mean, actually it's sorta helpful. Hehe THANK YOU VERY VERY VERY MUCH!!! I hope that when you read this you already knew that the real reason why she's all upset and worked over the whole thing is because she froze. I hope I clarified it to you. And please, continue to critique my work. I downright appreciate it. Haha! You rock! **

**Ar****vee-Chan****-Haha, well, thank you very much. It makes me happy knowing that you consider me as a favorite author. (blush)**

**tAnGeRiNe-jUjUbE08****-Thanks, hope to keep on hearing from you.**

**marshmallow-chan35****-Hehe thank you very much, hope you liked this chapter.**

**Ophianara Blade****-Haha! Please look forward to the next chapter. Violin girl meets guitar boy. Please watch out for it!!!**

**HarunaNiwa073****-Your hunch is right. The girl, however, is not Luna. She's just some random girl. Natsume's one hell of a playboy here. But don't worry, Luna will make her entrance soon. Thanks for the review!!! Yeah!**


	3. 3rd Line

**Disclaimer: Same old, same old.**

**Canon Rock**

_**By: BloodyRozze**_

"_Even the best fall down sometimes  
Even the wrong words seem to rhyme  
Out of the doubt that fills my mind  
I somehow find  
You and I collide"_

_-Howie Day-_

Mikan gulped down her saliva.

In front of her stood her future. Which looked like a decaying corroded body plunged down the fiery depths of hell.

Gakuen Alice School of Rock was indeed designed for those who love to _rock_. Namely those bald headed otherwise neon green colored Mow hawked guys with nose piercings, some were even walking around without wearing a shirt exposing their also pierced nip-…let's leave it at that.

There were Goth girls who were wearing black and nothing but black, holding a leather guitar case on their left hand and were admiring the beauty of razors on the other. There were Guns N' Roses fanatics wearing similar t-shirts with bags infested with bar pins that had pictures of Axl Rose, Bumblefoot or Dizzy Reed. There were psychos who were screaming their lungs out trying to reach a desired frequency and were failing horribly. There were also a group of students who were playing live the song I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing by Aerosmith.

"Not bad," Mikan whispered "But not good either."

Mikan tightened her grip on her denim slim bag and lowered her hood. Though she was relieved that her fame, not to mention her blatant failure didn't reach Japan, she still felt conscious. She was in an entirely different environment surrounded by people whom she's never imagined to even mingle with.

The school itself wasn't rundown as she expected. Actually it measures up to her standards, though the main concern was the students and their crazy fashion. There were huge sound proof music rooms enough to accommodate most students, a vast canteen that serves simple to high class dishes, classrooms where lectures about the History of Rock are to be heard, comfort rooms which are clean much to Mikan's relief and recording studios used to polish recorded voices or create albums.

Gakuen Alice may be a Rock school. But it wasn't simply a rock school that anyone who knows how to scream and pluck an electric guitar goes to. The tuition fee extends to hundreds of thousands of yen to a million. Scholars were considered to be geniuses. And though the student body may look rugged drunkards or serial rapists, most of them are actually sons or daughters of famous faces in the music industry, pop icons, rich politicians, business tycoons, or wealthy artists.

That explains the grand red carpet and the built in elevators with floors reaching up to 7.

"Never underestimate Hotaru's taste." Mikan spoke out loud.

Mikan got out her student directory which was given out during the enrolment period.

"Let's see," She scanned the booklet searching for her name "Ah, here it is. Class…P?"

As if it was something totally irrational to say, the moment she uttered the letter 'P' the students within a five meter radius from her were now staring at her flabbergasted.

Mikan, though used to the attention, was startled by the sudden change in the atmosphere.

"Don't worry. Normal people would have the same reaction. I'm Misaki Harada by the way, your classmate." A pink haired girl made way through the crowd, scratch that, the crowd made way for her and greeted Mikan with a smile.

Misaki who also claimed that she's part of class P escorted Mikan to their classroom.

"What's up with class P anyway?" Mikan asked.

"Actually, class P's just the abbreviation. It's the professional class. You must be fuckin' great with your guitar huh?"

"Actually I don't play the guitar."

"Oh, so you must be one heck of a drummer, but I got to hand it to you, no other drummer but Koko managed to get into class P this year."

"I'm not a drummer either."

"Then a keyboardist!"

"Nu uh." Mikan shook her head.

"Base?"

"Nope." Mikan replied slightly getting impatient.

Misaki gave Mikan a quizzical look before snapping her fingers and smiling brightly.

"Ah! How dumb of me, of course! A vocalist. You're like the second female vocalist _in history_ to be able to enter class P, girl. The other one's a bit-"

Misaki's voice trailed off.

Mikan followed her gaze which landed on a raven haired guy with a signature star on his cheek who was, in return, staring at her back. But whereas Misaki's looked bitter, the guy's was of boredom.

"Um, go-good morning, Tsu-tsubasa-kun." Misaki stammered while blushing profusely.

Another girl with short green wavy hair trotted towards the boy and flaunted mercilessly in front of a hurt Misaki.

"Tsu-chan, who's she?" The girl purred making Mikan furrow her brow in disgust.

"She's," The boy's eye met with Misaki's desperate ones. "No one, babe." He finished and wrapped his arm around the girl's waist.

Then the flirting couple, entered the classroom leaving the saddened Misaki all to herself.

Mikan was watching, rather amused, at the dramatic scene before her. It reminds her of an episode she saw on one Korean soap opera. Clearly, love makes an entertaining plot in shows. It makes her want to laugh her head off. Because love, indeed, makes a girl look downright stupid.

"Hey you alright?" She asked to the girl sulking in front of her. Not like she was actually concerned, it was more like a reflex.

Misaki raised her head, tears evident on the corners of her eyes, yet she fought a smile.

"Yeah, dust just went into my eye." She reasoned while wiping her tears into her white blouse.

"You know, I find it stupid how people lie even though the truth seems very obvious." Mikan said while taking out a handkerchief from her pocket and handing it to her.

Misaki got the hanky thankfully and blew her nose, a little too loudly for Mikan's comfort.

"Thank you." Misaki said smiling goofily as she reached out her hand to return the drenched-in-snot hanky.

Mikan raised her hands in surrender. "Ah, you keep it." _Who would want to keep that anyway?_ She thought.

Misaki observed it, her eyes bulging out. "This is specially tailored by Yves Saint Laurent!" She exclaimed while pointing at the embroidered YSL logo and Mikan's initials written in gold thread.

"I've got more at home. Don't worry about it." Mikan replied calmly. Of course she was used to that kind of extravagancy. She's met with most of the world famous fashion designers and even played for them during their very own birthdays or clothing line anniversaries.

"You're a damn rich bitch. C'mon, let's go in, class is about to start." Misaki regained her old bright smile and dragged Mikan to the class.

Luckily, the class Mikan was in was composed of decent looking students, not like she would consider slutty girls wearing micro mini skirts and tube tops as decent, but at least they weren't like the Nipple Pierced man she saw awhile ago.

The boy Misaki had an encounter with earlier was sitting on one corner making out with the green haired girl who most probably is his girlfriend, by the way he just inserted his tongue in her mouth and how his hands were massaging every private portion of her body. The only thing that separates what they're actually doing from sex was the presence of their clothes. They already looked intimate enough, and the girl in his arms was already moaning loudly.

_She sounds just like a cat. Except way sluttier _Mikan thought shaking her head in disapproval.

Mikan diverted her gaze to Misaki's pained face.

As an act of justice, Mikan was just about to interrupt the disgusting couple when another guy beat her to it.

"Tsubasa, stop humping in public man." A blonde haired, blue eyes boy wearing an attention grabbing white open polo and torn jeans said. He was what you would call a true 'bishounen' with a face even prettier than a woman's and a lingering smile as bright as the day.

"I don't see why you're acting all high and mighty when Natsume ain't here. I could easily erase that fake innocent face of yours." Tsubasa replied and continued on what he was doing, which was slurping the girl's mouth.

"Who's not here?" Came a deep, smooth voice.

It was as though the voice made a huge impact on the whole class since most of them just froze.

Their eyes darted towards the dark haired boy wearing a black crumpled polo and suave dark jeans leaning against the door.

Tsubasa pushed the girl on his lap away and wiped the lipstick left on his lips.

"You really are a killjoy. I was just getting to the good part." Tsubasa ruffled his hair and smiled.

The class erupted into squeals and shouts of glee and recognition.

"NATSUME-SAMA!" The girls squealed and flocked towards him.

"What's with the fuss?" Mikan questioned.

"Don't tell me you haven't heard of _the_ Natsume Hyuuga? He's like a rock legend! Not to mention a guitar prodigy!" Misaki answered like it was common knowledge.

"And the blonde?"

"Oh that's Ruka Nogi, a brilliant base guitarist! He's represented the school to a lot of outdoor music competitions already! I can't believe you also don't know who he is?"

"Oh and the guy who was making out with the seaweed is your boyfriend?" Mikan teased as Misaki turned bright red.

"Of course not! He…and I…are…anyway, he's Tsubasa Andou, the vocalist. The three of them, including Koko and Mochiage make up a band called Black Deck. They're popular here. Actually, they already have an album. It ranked first on the music charts for 35 weeks straight!" Misaki bragged, her nostrils flaring.

"So who's the bitch?" Mikan pointed to the green haired slut who was now flirting with some other guy.

Misaki's face crinkled in disgust. "Sumire Shouda, back up singer. Emphasize the word 'back'."

Mikan snickered and remembered. "How bout' you, what do you play?"

"Me? I'm more of a base person. Which reminds me, you haven't told me what you play yet…"

Misaki pestered Mikan to tell her about what instrument she plays when the Seaweed Bitch (what Mikan decided to call Sumire since it fits her perfectly) intentionally elbowed Misaki making her trip and fall.

"Oh, I'm sooo sorry, I didn't see you there." Sumire said with a nauseating, fake sugary tone. Her hands were on her wide hips, and she was looking at Misaki as though she was beat up crap.

Slap.

Sumire's eyes widened as she absorbed what had just occurred. The hooded weirdo guy in front of her had just…just…slapped her hard! She massaged her swollen cheek and glared at him.

The whole class was staring at them now. Mikan expected Tsubasa to come to his girlfriend's rescue since well she's his girlfriend, but instead he was just looking at them with a hint of amusement. No one dared to stand up against Sumire Shouda. Be it male or female. Her influence among the heads of music companies makes it a bad choice to make her angry. Mess with her, goodbye to any chance of getting into a good recording company. Easy as that.

But this guy.

This blue hooded weirdo didn't just provoke her, he or she, for that matter, just ruined _the_ Sumire's face. And for Sumire, image is everything.

"You bastard!" She shrieked.

"First of all, you brought this unto yourself. You could flirt, fuck with every man in this room, make them swoon over your filthy body, hell I care. But, you won't get away once you mess with a friend of mine. Alright?" Mikan spat startling Sumire.

Sumire turned red from embarrassment.

She leaped towards the guy and dug her newly manicured nails on his face.

Mikan's hood fell off, exposing her unwavering hazel eyes, beautiful face and long caramel hair.

Misaki, alarmed, ran towards the two who were just about to murder each other and yanked Sumire off Mikan.

"Stay out of this bitch!" Sumire screamed. Misaki ignored her and helped the scratched Mikan up.

"You alright?" Misaki asked worriedly seeing the damage done to Mikan's pretty features.

"You think?' Mikan replied sarcastically. Her patience was already wearing thin and based on trusted sources, she could be hell scary once she's mad. She does take after Hotaru a little bit after all.

Natsume raised his brow after seeing the true appearance of the mysterious hooded man who idiotically mad the bad decision of getting into Sumire's bad side. Not like he cared though. Sumire never measured up to his standards anyway. She was just some random slut he, or any rich guy, could play with.

He watched with interest as the copper haired girl stood up and wiped the blood from her lip.

He involuntarily licked his own.

Ruka saw this and sighed. "You made the fatal mistake of getting Natsume to notice you, I feel sorry for you." He whispered.

Mikan glared at Sumire who was glaring at her back. This was the start of a cold war, no, the start of World War 3 as we know it. Mikan looked like she just wanted to clasp her hand around Sumire's throat and crush it. Sumire seemed like she wanted to slice Mikan to strips using her fingernails, like Wolverine.

"That's enough." Tsubasa interfered.

Mikan glared at him.

"Honey! I was sooo scared, isn't she scary? And look, I broke two nails! TWO!" Sumire whined like some baby who had just lost its pacifier. Mikan felt as though diarrhea just reached her mouth.

"Hey," Mikan called gaining Tsubasa's attention "Learn how to control your girl. For all I know, she'll end up like Hitler."

Tsubasa smirked and approached her. "You're interesting, you know that?" He whispered hotly in her ear.

Sumire fumed in jealousy. "You bitch! You stole Tsu-chan away from me!" she raged and got out her phone.

"Calling daddy aren't we?" Mikan said with a mocking grin.

"You're dead…" Misaki said to Mikan who just waved the matter away.

"Dad! You won't believe this! Some girl I school just hurt me! And make me broke two nails, t-w-o nails!"

_What a tattle tail. _Mikan thought.

"Who's her father again?" Mikan asked.

"It's Mr. Sergio Shouda. Ever heard of All Star records? They own it." Misaki answered a bit terrified. Who wouldn't be? Sergio Shouda could easily dismiss you in the music industry and you could end up as a simple waitress in some unknown bar in the suburbs and erase your existence like you've never existed. And he happens to have one hell of a daughter complex.

Mikan smiled inwardly. "Sergio, eh?"

"Hey, my father wants to talk to you." Sumire said.

Mikan got Sumire's phone calmly and placed at close to her ear. The whole class anticipated her fall with utmost glee. Sumire was already smirking triumphantly as if she's already won.

"What have you done with my daughter? Consider your music career flushed-"Mr. Shouda lectured.

"Sergio," Mikan cut him off. "It's me. Mikan."

The students were surprised to see Mikan address Sumire's father as if they already knew each other closely.

"Mikan! Oh, it must be my daughter. I'm very sorry. Please, forgive her. She's taking after her mother."

"Don't worry about it. And yeah, you're right. She's like her mom, both inside and out." Mikan thought of Sumire's mom. She met her once when she played a piece for the Prime Minister. She was tall, beautiful, and charming. She remembered how she flirted with absolutely everyone in the room, even the Prime Minister himself, in front of his wife too. She also recalled how she poured champagne all over her when she intentionally stepped on her gown to make her fall down. How she shrieked and screamed at her face. Good times…good times…

"Thank you very much."Mr. Shouda said in relief.

"Bye." Mikan flipped the phone shut and returned it to the horrified Sumire with a smirk.

"You know Shouda-san, you better be careful. Cauz' your daddy might get bankrupt soon because of your actions." Mikan said cutely while patting Sumire on the head.

"You! You probably said you'll sleep with him! That's why you got it easy! Sumire pointed an accusing finger at her. "I have money you know. I could do anything I please."

"You wanna know what the meaning of 'rich' is?" Mikan took out her phone and grinned wickedly. "Let me show you."

Mikan dialed something on her phone.

"Send them in." She said as soon as the other end had granted the call.

Suddenly, helicopters, emphasize on the's', appeared carrying guards in military uniform. The entrance gate below was flooded with black limousines and men in black tuxedos and aircrafts were hovering above the school.

Mikan's classmates were now gaping at her and the fancy transportation vehicles she had under her command.

Sumire slid down the floor in a kneeling position. Oh how terrible defeat felt.

Mikan got the hand of Misaki, who was giving her a dazed look, and dragged her to the window. She opened it and stepped on the rail.

"C'mon, this class sucks." Mikan pulled Misaki up as the two of them held unto a dangling rope ladder.

"See ya, bitch." Mikan shot Sumire a you-lose wink as the helicopter navigated away from the school.

Natsume and Co. who witnessed the whole thing whistled. The new girl certainly was intriguing.

"Not bad." Natsume ruffled his already messy hair and leaned back against his chair and placed his legs on the table.

"Don't tell me Natsume you've taken a liking to the newbie?" Tsubasa asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Liking? More like lust." Natsume replied as he got his guitar and caressed its curves as though it was a woman.

"So, what're you planning?"

"Of course, I'll make her mine." Natsume assured.

And so our protagonist had no idea what awaits her future.

But let me tell you, it ain't pretty.

**I decided to revise this chap guys. It just seemed so….boring…..so I hope it's alright with you. Tell me if this one's better. **

**Reviews are encouraged.**

**Later.**


	4. 4th Tone

**Disclaimer: Never, never. Miss writing this.**

**Canon Rock**

_**By: PingPong Girl/BloodyRozze**_

"_Where did I go wrong,_

_I lost a friend,_

_Somewhere along in the bitterness,_

_And I would have stayed up,_

_With you all night_

_If I know, how to save a life."_

_-__**The Fray-**_

The once prideful, and termed as the Most Egoistic Socialite of the modern day French era, ironically, had her head down. Her long brown fringes cascaded down her sullen chest as she did her best to keep her breathing in pace.

In front of her, with her arms crossed in a businesslike manner, was Hotaru Imai. To say that she had on a fierce countenance would be an understatement, for she bore in her eyes such grave fury that rivals that of Hades.

"You dare summon my men, with such a damn small reason?"

Mikan flinched at the icyness of her tone.

"So—"

"I don't want to hear any of your sorry's," Hotaru cut her off while simultaneously hitting her with her ever so vicious baka gun. Updated version, of course. "You costed me a few hundred on gas, and lots on food. Do you know how greedy those men are, once you give them some assignment, false or not, they'd expect a feast and a raise in return."

"I'll ask father to pay in recompense." Mikan couldn't quite get her friend's addiction for money. She's damn rich, and yet, she budgets and treasures every single penny to the point of becoming obsessed.

"Oh, you better. Until you pay for every value lost from my account, you are never to utilize any of my belongings. You have your allowance. Learn to use it. Any coin more, you earn it yourself."

With that final baffling statement, Hotaru turned around and walked away with her usual posse of black suited guards trailing behind her.

Mikan Sakura stared at the frightening sight before her. A long road, practically stretching two kilometers, from the Imai mansion to their colossal gates. Hotaru, being true to her word, had refused to let her use any of their cars or chauffeurs. Not to mention she simply left without a word, leaving her to do something about her transportation problem, alone.

"This is a bitch."

Mikan muttered to herself, and with a begrudging sigh, she began to force her limp legs to move.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Misaki looked at the neurosis-stricken Mikan who was in the middle of dragging her lifeless feet while pulling her equally numb body using a branch of a tree. Her hair was amess, like a bird had woven each strand into a nest and sweat was pouring, literally, from her forehead. Her uniform was damp, and sweat lines were evident on her armpits and shoulder blades.

"I have traveled through the river Styx, and luckily made it out alive."

They entered their classroom, whose previous noises were silenced the moment Mikan's left foot landed within its perimeter. Misaki was somewhat spooked by the bizarre attitude of their classmates whereas Mikan merely raised one amused brow and went to her chair. Although she found it a bother, she still liked the attention, and the obvious fear she had instilled unto everyone.

Pure and utter relief and bliss coursed through her the moment her bum made contact with the wooden chair.

God, her whole body was aching. And to think she'd have to go on the same ordeal later this afternoon. Her temples throbbed by merely entertaining such a mortifying thought. She was never good in PE to begin with. It took her weeks before she stopped complaining that her arm hurts after playing the violin for hours. Her instructor, made sure that she was very well, _trained_, was the word he called their little periods of hell.

"Hey."

Mikan, too caught up with succumbing to her thoughts, wasn't able to hear the greeting given to her by one of the most influencial personages of the academy.

The whole class gasped at the way the newbie brushed Tsubasa Andou, off. This sparked enragement within the somewhat humiliated lad, but aroused something quite opposite to his friends who stood just right behind him.

Only did Misaki's hard yank brought Mikan back to reality. It failed to show on her face, but she was surprised to find three boys standing before her. Staring at her, actually, with such intensity that it caused the hair on her back to stand.

She stood up and brushed one stray strand of her hair behind one ear. "Am I some mannequin wearing a bikini up for display? What's with the stares?"

"I'm Tsubasa Andou." The rugged looking boy, with his necktie untied, and his polo wide open revealing his milky chest, extended his hand.

"So...you walk up to me, stare like I'm some goddamn porn website, and tell me your name. Are you a gay real estate agent or what."

His two friends chuckled behind him.

"She's hilarious, ain't she, twin?" Kokoro Yome, also known as the class clown, and the most hyperactive drummer and DJ that ever set foot on the Academy, said while patting his look alike on the back.

"Sure is, feisty too." A complete replica of Koko, except with hair a darker shade of blonde, and P class' current keyboarding genius, gave Mikan a friendly wink, in which she did not bother to respond to.

"You calling me gay?" Was Tsubasa's oh-so-intelligent reply. It hit him straight on the chest, although he made sure never to take a woman's word seriously.

"So now you're deaf."

Misaki poked Mikan on the side. "Chill, girl. Chill."

Mikan heeding Misaki's words, took a deep breath and sat back down. "Thank you for reminding me not to converse with low intellectual beings."

"No problem."

Once more, the entire student body who were able to witness such a feat, were apalled by her behavior. First she ignored him. And now he dissed him and even called him gay. Some were intrigued by her, others, faithful followers of Andou, or the female population, were blazing with anger.

"How dare you call my Tsubasa low intellectual you ill mannered bitch!"

Mikan resisted the urge to snicker. "You've got courage, Shouda. But keep in mind that, you messing with me could render any future you dream of in the music industry nulled."

Sumire was silenced by this, her bloated ego now deflated and her pride trampled like some piece of shit.

"What's with this atmosphere?"

Mikan rolled her eyes._ And now the characters are complete, let's dance for joy._

Ruka Nogi and Natsume Hyuuga, with all their glory, entered the classroom. An air of superiority clouded over them like an aura that never fades. A mist that never wavers with the wind. An air that can only be breathed by those endowed with such godly looks and musical talent.

"Why does the moment they enter, it's like Jesus' back on Earth again?"

"Well, they are the hottest of the hottest nowadays. Take a look here."

Misaki handed Mikan the current month's installment of Playgirl. On the cover page, was a dramatic focused image of Hyuuga biting his lower lip and Nogi nibbling on his finger. They both wore tight fitting Abercrombie and Fitch jeans that accentuates their exposed pelvic lines and was, of course, shirtless. No surprise there.

_This month's Straddle Worthy Hotties:_

_Ruka Nogi, a peacemaker, soft spoken to women, and exudes the princely pheromones women go gaga for. Although he's such a charmer, he's never hooked up with women before. Soif any of you uber confident ladies yearn to cage this guitarist, I say you warm yourselves up, he is after all..good with his hands._

_Natsume Hyuuga, the manifestation of Apollo, the hotter version of Mozart (guitar wise) and is blessed with the sexiest voice on earth. This dirty boy would gladly rip his polo open for anyone interested, but be warned, the scene you're about to see could send you the hospital ASAP. He's got a delicious chest and rock hard abs that will surely stimulate the salivary glands, of both young naughty vixens and nasty cougars._

"Andou," Natsume spoke, making Tsubasa bite his lip unconsciously (not in a seductive manner people), "what are you doing standing like a fucking idiot?"

"Nothin'." Tsubasa tried to keep his cool, what's left of it for that matter, intact. He was infuriated and rarely does he allow his actions to exemplify his emotions. Pulling back a nearby vacant chair, he slumped down loudly and placed his feet on top of the table.

Ruka and Natsume sat behind Mikan and Misaki, making the once tense atmosphere even more tedious. But of course, Mikan was now back to her own thoughts, completely oblivious to the situation at hand.

The door slammed open and in came their homeroom adviser. Wearing a Shakesperean top with puffy sleeves and tight fitting fuschia leggings, his over all ensemble was enough to make Mikan's vision ablur. He carried a special radiance that made him look even more gayer than the homosexual he already seems.

"What's with this guy?" Mikan whispered to Misaki's ear, making Misaki erupt in tiny fits of giggles.

"That's Narumi-sensei. Despite how he looks, he used to be part of a very famous metal band. His hair was this long and he never wore a shirt. Some of the female teachers have pictures of him in his youth. He was sizzling."

"Who knew." Mikan whistled.

Narumi called every name of the students under his class using a Brittish accent. It was obviously something strenuous to do, but he found irritating the shit out of his students so fascinating, he didn't give a dman at all.

After checking the attendance, he went on and gave a brief discussion about the school's mission and vission and emphasized few major rules that should be followed.

1. Don't get pregnant.

2. Don't get involved in street performances and clubs.

3. Don't steal another's composition.

And the list goes on and on.

By the end of his speech, most of the students were already snoozing, drooling or texting. But one statement sucked their drifting souls back to their carcasses.

"Let's hear what each one of you got."

Alphabetically, males first before females, each student would stand up, bring their guitar, sing some song, play the set-up organ, or for drummers, do some beats by tapping or hitting the stuff present within the room.

Andou played first, who would've thought he was incredibly good in playing the guitar. His hand movements were fast, and his fingers that were used in changing the chords were swift yet slender. Not a squeak could be heard when he slid his fingers from the second to the sixth fret. And the way he played held so much emotion that after his performance, most of the students of other sections were already situated outside of their classroom, cheering him for an encore.

Others followed him, but none could ever compare to the sound of applauds, cheers and squeals of the student body when Natsume Hyuuga went in front, sat in front of the organ and began playing a soft melody.

"He's gonna sing?" Mikan asked, puzzled.

"Oh girl, didn't I tell you, he's like the god of rock, omnipotent in every aspect of it babe."

The first syllable he uttered made the insides of everyone churn and filled them all with such solace and soothness that emitted from his soft voice.

"_I close both locks below the window...__  
__I close both blinds and turn away...__  
__Sometimes solutions aren't so simple...__  
__Sometimes good bye's the only way..." _

Mikan smiled inwardly, although she would never admit that she was impressed. He was good to say the least, but she had heard more singers which are better. Plus she prefers men doing opera, than rough and raspy.

Following the reaction of her fellow listeners, she allowed her eyelids to close, taking in more of the vibrations of his voice, the twinge of each differentiation of pitch and his every soft intake of breath. Like Schubert's compos, Hyuuga's voice had the ability to cure insomnia and make you feel so lightheaded.

_"__And the sun will set for you...__  
__The sun will set for you...__  
__And the shadow of the day...__  
__Will embrace the world in grey...__  
__And the sun will set for you..."_

He stopped after singing to first chorus which made everyone erupt into fits of childish tantrums, urging him adamantly to continue. But, he was not one to take others demands, and went back to his chair and began to fondle the ass of the girl who sat in front of him.

The poor bastard who had to perform after him received no acknowledgement, even if he did have a nice voice. Natsume's an asshole for setting such a high standard.

Only did Ruka's performance of a guitar version of Lady Gaga's Bad Romance did people start whistling and jeering again. He was a professional in plucking, with such outrageous speed and the amazing ability to produce such a clear and harmonious tone despite singularizing each chord. Of course, no one could beat Nogi in playing the guitar, well, other than his life long rival and ironically, his best friend. His title of being the 17-year-old version of Jimmy Page, stands for something.

Mikan was somehow lost trying to imagine what possible skill does Natsume Hyuuga have to make him gain all the hyperbolic labels. Nogi could be deemed as a professional, but with all the rumors about how Hyuuga was several times superior than Nogi, she couldn't ease the curiosity of hearing Natsume's play.

Mochiage and Koko's combined performance also caught the attention and support of many, while all other male musicians were trapped under the shadow of inferiority. Mochiage started by creating a rhythmic beat by using his palms and tapping it on the white board. Koko joined in by using pens and hitting the window grills. They popped and sprayed open sodas, threw their shoes, made weird sounds come out of their pharynxes. It was, over all, fun and energetic.

The females division received less audience impact. Most of the audience dispersed and went back into their respective classrooms.

Misaki did great in playing a complicated song, but she messed up in some lines. Must be because Tsubasa's watching her and made her feel so self conscious it almost seemed as though she was trying to hide behind her guitar.

Shouda however, made Mikan smirk. It never occured to her that putting Shouda's annoying and over all crappy personality aside, she has the potential to rise in the entertainment world. She sang 'According To You' by Orianthi and made it sound even better than the original record. As what one would expect from the daughter of a music producer legend.

Some performances also stood out, like Marumi's amazing keyboarding skills as she played "21 Guns" by Green Day after hearing the song for the first time. And Shoko Hitomi's drumming, which made everyone's heads bob.

Mikan's turn came, and all looked at her expectantly. But to the utter surprise of many, Narumi skipped her name and proceeded with the next musician, Hotoko Tachibana, the girl that had several piercings on her face, wore an all black outfit and had razors for braces, for earrings, for necklaces, for bracelets and for shoe buckles.

Misaki raised her hand and got Narumi's attention. "Sensei, you forgot to mention Mikan's name."

Narumi glanced at his class record and faced back at her. "But it says here that she doesn't play any instrument."

"EH?" The class screamed in disbelief.

Sumire's shriek stood out from the rest. "You mean she," She cried while pointing an accusing finger at Mikan "Can't even play?"

"Are you deaf too, permy?" Mikan said while inserting a finger in her ear.

Misaki, who was sitting beside her, was too stunned to speak.

"You let a complete amateur, no, a know-nothing-at-all in the P-class?" gone was Koko's previous interest in her, to be replaced by scorn. If other people knew that someone like her was in the Professional class, their reputation would very well be hurled into the garbage bin.

A clattering noise caused the eyes of all to divert to the figure standing on one corner of the room.

"Get out." Was all he said, but Hyuuga made himself very clear, he didn't want outliers, black sheeps, or vegan wolves in his pack.

Ruffling her hair, Mikan got up with a soft groan. It was all Hotaru's fault. Now she had to switch to some other classroom, introduce herself and such. All the fuss.

"Class, although she may not be in the same caliber as you, the principal himself assigned her to this class and even you Natsume cannot do anything about it." Narumi explained and getured for Mikan to go back to her seat.

"What a slut, she must've slept with the principal." One random girl said which made people snicker.

As though air had diffused its way back to Shouda's head, she immediately joined the insults and remarks of the other girls who wanted to make it clear that Mikan was a whore who loved to fuck older men, including Shouda's dad.

"You must've got your money from all the tycoons you've slept with, huh, skank?" Tsubasa butted in and gave her a trumphant smirk, as though he won this round. "Want me to do you too?"

"Sir Narumi, could I transfer to another...less boisterous class please. This one's giving me a headache."

"I don't know, you've got to settle it with the principal."

"Then, I best be on my way." Mikan grabbed her bag and swung it coolly on one shoulder. Not one comment affected her in the slightest. As long as she kept her own idea of dignity, she didn't concern herself of what other people say about her.

She gave a goodbye nod to Misaki before making her way out of the classroom and into the empty corridors.

"That was cruel you guys." Misaki forced herself to speak. For the shortest time that she had spent with the new girl, she developed an instant trust in her. She wasn't one of those flashy girls, and yesterday, when they ate at a ice cream saloon, she was able to freely talk and talk about things without angst.

It was the principal's fault for wrongly assigning her to a wrong classroom. Not hers, and yet she was the one getting bullied face on.

"She's a scam. She deserves it." Shouda retaliated while taking out her kikay kit and reapplying her lipstick.

"Sensei, I too would like to transfer to a different class. This class stinks of scumbags and self obsessed skanks."

She swiftly placed her books back in her bag, got her guitar and made her grand exit. But before she managed to walk out of the room, Tsubasa held her eyes for a few moments. She couldn't decipher what the mysterious look he had meant. But she wasn't sticking there to find out.

Misaki caught up with Mikan just as she was about to enter the principal's office.

"You sure you're quitting that hell hole?"

"Yep, that's a room for pussies anyway. Get it, P-room? Pussy-room?"

"..."

"Hey, you could at least force a laugh."

"I don't wanna bother my muscles by doing something so stupid."

"Fine! But don't expect me to laugh at any of your jokes."

"Do I look like the type to conjure such idiotic comments?"

"Well no...bu—"

"I'm in love with Tsubasa."

"EH?"

"He's just so strong and he even had the courage to stand up against me. Plus, he's got one nice chest...I just want to lick off those shimmering sweat beads."

"HEEEEH?"

"You honestly believed me. Moron."

"That wasn't funny."

"I didn't say it was a joke."

"What do you think of Hyuuga? Nice voice, huh?"

"So, so."

"Oh c'mon! It was like...angelic!"

"Sounds to me like he never had himself circumcised."

"Of course he did!"

"You already saw his package? Figures."

"No I didn't mean that!"

"Get away from me, pervert."

They slowly marched away, bickering and exhanging witty and childish comments, towards a future in which they never could imagine. For what awaited the two, was something they never expected.

**Wow, I just uploaded this like last night, and I already needed revisions. It's been a really long time since I last wrote so the details are somewhat fuzzy to me. Sorry. **

**I did some editting at some parts. **

**THANKS TO ****KidTantei**** for correcting those stuff...I owe you big time. As in. **

**P.S.**

**Stay tuned to the next chap...Mikan's finally going to show those people what the word 'prodigy' means.**


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